Prisoner of War
by BirdSpell
Summary: The war between the cops and the mafia is reaching its peak, and Lovino has finally managed to capture one of the leading members of his enemy's group. But when it comes to being a brat, this kid might just have him beat...


**This is Dalasport's prize for my contest over in Broken Assassin. The request was bitchy Emil. The result was this… whatever that is.**

**Hetalia? Sure I own it. Along with a rainbow unicorn named Timmy that shoots lasers from his eyes.**

Emil sighed, running a hand through his messy silver hair. His brothers were such _idiots._ And of course he was the one suffering for it. Of course. Because karma naturally hated him.

But seriously, walking directly into a known mafia hideout and expecting not to be attacked? That was like expecting a starving grizzly to _not_ try to eat you. So he'd had to save their asses. And then he got captured. Fan-fucking-tastic.

To be fair, Lukas and Mathias _had_ fought just as hard as he had. Considering the fact this was their—well, Mathias'—fault to begin with, though… Emil was _not_ in a forgiving mood. He looked up at the ceiling. He'd woken up in this cell… oh, about an hour ago? He couldn't be sure, as the fucking mafia bastards _stole his fucking watch._ He sighed again.

"Hola~!"

Emil's violet eyes flicked over to the door of the cell. He suppressed an irritated groan. Great, it was the Spaniard- Smiley.

That _probably_ wasn't his real name. But it wasn't like Emil had much else to go on, and 'battle axe' wasn't very helpful when it came to coming up with disparaging nicknames. Ah well. Smiley would do.

"What do you want?"

Smiley pouted. "Why are you being so rude? I mean, you were like this before too."

"Why am I- I was captured by the fucking mafia and you expect me to be polite?"

"Your idiocy is showing, fucking tomato bastard."

Smiley and Emil turned towards where the new voice was coming from. Two young men stood at the end of the corridor the cell was on. They were maybe a year or two older than Emil, with auburn hair. One's eyes were a strange amber that flashed in anger. The other had his eyes closed. Emil had nicknamed that one Weepy, since he cried _all the time. _The other one… Well. Even Emil wasn't bold enough to give _Lovino fucking Vargas_ a disparaging nickname.

The fiery Italian was the most infamous mafia boss this side of Sicily. Being rude to him was frequently a one way express trip to hell. But this was _Emil_, so…

"Oh hi, should I… oh, I don't know, bow or something, Your Royal Dickishness?"

Smiley gulped, shaking his head. Weepy cringed. Lovino simply raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a death wish, brat? Because I don't know why else you would say something so unbelievably stupid."

Emil shrugged. "Death would be more interesting than this. I mean, is this how you torture people? Do you _bore_ them to death?"

The three mobsters stared at him, apparently lost for words. Smiley chuckled softly, and Lovino turned to glare at him. "Shut up, _idiota_! It's not funny!"

"Sorry, Lovi, but it kind of is! I mean, someone who is actually brave enough to talk back, and he's been captured by the mafia, and he's _bored_!" The Spaniard wiped his eyes. "It _is_ funny!"

Weepy nodded quietly. "He's got a point, ve…"

Lovino made a strangled sound, somewhat akin to a dog attempting to swallow something bigger than its head. Which Emil had actually heard, thanks for that, Hana. The Icelandic boy snickered. "Y'know, you sound _exactly_ like my dad's dog when you do that." He absently tapped his lips. "Maybe you're related?"

Lovino gave him a _Look_. A full out 'if you say anything else I will kill you' Look. Pissed off though Emil was, he knew when to stop pushing it, and he leaned back against the wall. Weepy moved forward and put something down outside the cell. "I… um… I thought you might be hungry…"

It. Smelled. Amazing. Emil scooped up the dish of spaghetti with a muttered "Thanks," settling down happily to eat. It was good. Flavorful, with just a hint of spice. He finished it in less than five minutes, placing the dish down beside him. The world seemed to spin around him and he leaned forward, frowning. "Really? You've _got_ to be kidding."

As the world went dark, he heard Lovino snort with something like laughter.

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"…really necessary?"

"Of course it was necessary."

"But, fratello…"

"Hush, Feli. Go wait with the fucking potato bastard or something. Get Antonio to give you a tomato."

"Okay, ve~!"

Footsteps ran off down the hall, and someone tugged Emil's hair. Hard. "I know you're awake, fucking cop bastard."

"Ow! Could you not touch my hair?"

He opened his eyes and Lovino leaned back. "Pretending to be unconscious is a good trick, but it annoys me, so don't use it with me."

"You're a dick, did you know that?" Emil sat up, groaning as his headache made itself apparent. "And did you really need to drug me?"

"No," the older man admitted. "I just wanted to."

"…words cannot explain how much I hate you right now."

"Try."

What followed was about two minutes' worth of unprintable obscenities. When Emil stopped swearing, Lovino just looked smug. "You see? You could express your hatred of me. And so fluently, too. Was that… Latin? And Icelandic. Impressive."

Emil sighed. "Why'd you drug me?"

"I felt like it."

"Bullshit."

"So we could administer the truth serum."

"What?!" Emil checked his arms. He sighed in relief. No sign of an injection. "You're an ass."

"_Si_. Very much so. But they do say it takes one to know one."

The Icelander glared at him. "Just what are you implying?"

"What do you think I'm implying, _idiota_?"

Emil raised an eyebrow. Oh, the disdain could be cut with a knife. "That you can't be bothered to come up with an insult?"

Lovino sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I've already sent the ransom demand. So why don't you shut your damned mouth and make this easy for both of us?"

"What do you mean?" Emil asked innocently.

"For fuck's sake…"

"No, seriously. You should see what I'm like when I'm _really_ mad."

"Antonio?"

"Yes, Lovi~?"

"Go get me a gag."

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**Uh, what did I just write?**

**There was supposed to be a plot, I swear! It kinda turned into Emmi—sorry, Emil, darling—and Lovi insulting each other. But Smiley and Weepy- I mean, Toni and Feli showed up, so that's nice, right?**

**… it was fun to write, okay?**

**Well, I need to go edit and post the next chapter of Broken Assassin. See you around~!**

**-Bird**


End file.
